


This Child is Mine

by tryslora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Childbirth, Community: wizsprogs, Infidelity, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 16:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When James catches Scorpius and Albus in bed, half undressed, he throws them both out of the flat the three share. Six months later he finds Scorpius on his own, working and pregnant. James does what he thinks is the right thing and convinces Scorpius to come home with him, but it’s not so easy to simply fit back into each other’s lives. It turns out, Scorpius is as stubborn as any Potter, and has some expectations of his own this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Child is Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Dear [](http://kitty-fic.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://kitty-fic.livejournal.com/)**kitty_fic** , when I saw your prompts, I knew I would be writing at least one of them. I love writing this pairing (and do not do it often enough!) and this was lovely fun. Also, as always, JKR owns the boys and the world, I just like to play with them sometimes.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Scorpius turned when James grabbed his arm, grey eyes dull with exhaustion. “Working,” he said, twisting away. “Strangely enough, I find myself needing money, and this happens to be a particularly menial way of obtaining it.”

James didn’t know what to say. He had come in thinking about a hot cup of coffee and a slice of peach pie, and when he saw Scorpius he didn’t think past his first words. His hand was still held out, reaching, as Scorpius turned from him, the stained white apron draping over a bulky jumper and baggy jeans that hung low on his hips in Muggle fashion. James frowned. Scorpius’ expression was pale and drawn, bags under his eyes, but his body seemed thick and round, at odds with the thin wrist James had just held. And the clothes weren’t anything like what he’d ever expect to find Scorpius Malfoy wearing. “You look like shit. And since when do you need to work?” Not to mention that he was working _here_ , in a diner in the worst part of Muggle London.

“Since I have rent due on a flat, and shockingly, it doesn’t pay itself,” Scorpius said dryly. “My boss is also somewhat of an arse, and if he sees you talking to me, he’s likely to be pissed off at me. Again.” He threw a look over his shoulder, expression calm. “He threw Albus out just two days ago.”

Albus had been here.

Fuck.

James scowled, arms crossed. “So you and Albus—still on, then? He staying at that flat with you?”

One eyebrow rose, disdain etched in every inch of Scorpius fair, delicate features. “That is absolutely none of your business, James. If I recall, you’re the one who put me out of our flat, and explained in no uncertain terms that you never wanted to see me again. I’ve complied.” His tone went almost flat, a hint of irritation tingeing the edges. “However, I’m not planning on leaving my job simply because you want a late night snack, so if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Scorpius turned away again, one hand at his back as he stretched. His back arched, his head falling back. Hair longer than James remembered brushed the space just below his collar, his belly pressed out briefly, the jumper tightening to outline it. James's breath caught, and he stared. “You’re pregnant,” he said quietly.

“Malfoy!”

Scorpius’ jaw tightened and he lifted his tray of dirty dishes. “Coming!” he yelled back. He glanced at James and hissed, “It’s none of your business, Potter. Not any more. Not ever again. And go on, mention it a bit louder, in front of the bloody Muggles.”

“Malfoy!” The owner of the diner was florid-faced and roundly jowled, a scowl etched into his expression so deeply that James suspected the lines would never fade. “Get your arse back to work now, or you’ll be going home for the night and don’t bother to come back. This is your second warning.” His voice dropped lower. “Third time, you’re out.”

Scorpius didn’t say a word, just walked away. James dropped into the nearest chair at the table Scorpius had just cleared, not sure what to think. Pregnant. The word was too big to think his way around, and there were too many implications. Here they were in a Muggle place, and how the bloody hell was Scorpius keeping everyone from noticing? He wasn’t huge, likely about six months gone, James decided. After all, that was about how long it had been since… His scowl deepened.

Since Albus. It had been six bloody months since James had caught Albus and Scorpius bloody well nearly starkers in Al’s room, snuggled up close to each other, Al’s tongue down Scorpius’ throat. James remembered standing in the doorway, hands clenched as he took in his brother and his boyfriend together. They weren’t in the middle of the act, but James knew that soft sigh Scorpius made when he was ready, and he’d made it. He didn’t need to see his prick to know he was ready to go.

They’d protested, but they couldn’t deny that they were there, together, nearly naked and hands on each other, and James had done the only thing he could think of to do: threw them both out of the flat they all had shared for the past three years. Albus and Scorpius had moved in with James right after Hogwarts, and it had been a perfect living situation, even after James and Scorpius had started dating.

James hadn’t seen either of them for six months.

Oh, he’d come close to seeing Albus. After all, they were brothers, and were expected home at the same time on occasion. His mother had tried to get him to talk to her, but he refused. Only Lily knew the truth, and when she’d tried to defend Albus, James had stopped talking to her as well. He’d have to see them all soon enough, with the holidays approaching, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. It was tempting to ask for an assignment that would send him out of the country for December and January just to avoid it.

His gaze drifted to a back table where Scorpius was standing, feet set a little wide, body swaying slightly to accommodate the bulge of his belly. One of the blokes at the table lifted up a pint and gestured at Scorpius’ body before he took a gulp—must’ve thought that’s how he got the gut: too many pints and not enough exercise. Scorpius smiled, charming as he ever could be. James had no doubt that he must get brilliant tips, but that didn’t account for how skinny he was aside from the round bulge, and the dark shadows under his eyes.

Another server found his table, and James gave his order to a pretty little blond woman who wasted her time flirting with him. Coffee. Peach pie with a dollop of ice cream. It was delivered quickly, but James ate slowly, letting his attention drift. He pulled a book from one pocket and read for a while, making the pie last an hour before the last bite was gone, and working his way through several refills of the somewhat bitter coffee.

When he finally looked up to pay, Scorpius was gone.

“What happened to the blond bloke?” he asked the waitress.

“He’s on his fifteen.” She shrugged one shoulder and sighed, and he read clearly that she’d figured out he wasn’t interested. “Likely sitting out back like he does, but you won’t make friends if you go out there. He’s a nasty arse to blokes who come sniffing about, trying to chat him up.”

James smiled tightly. “I’ll take my chances.”

She sniffed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Haven’t met a one of them yet who wasn’t scared off after he was done. For a scrawny bloke, he packs a bloody hard punch, I’ve heard.”

James added another bill on top of the pile he’d already given her, not really looking at what it was. Muggle money was odd, flimsy and impermanent, but it was a necessity. Besides, a good enough tip and she might not ask any more questions, or come looking for Scorpius before he was done talking.

He left through the front door, then made his way around back. Scorpius was sitting on the stoop, shoes off and one foot bent up to his knee as he rubbed a peppermint scented lotion into it. Eyes were closed, a soft sigh escaping.

Bloody hell, but even after six months, that sound still twisted in James's gut. He wanted to kiss him, to touch him, to take care of him. He wanted to make the world right, even though it was Scorpius who’d been the one to make it wrong. It was just… bloody fucking hell.

James grabbed the odd pot of salve and dug two fingers in, scooping some out to slather on the sole of Scorpius’ foot. As his ex-lover jerked, trying to pull away, James held on and massaged it in slowly, taking great care to reach every spot. “Magical or Muggle?” he asked quietly, nodding at the salve.

“Muggle,” Scorpius said, voice rough. “Haven’t used a bit of magic since I got here. That’s the way the Muggle world works, you know. Can’t use magic in it. Can’t even admit to it.”

“What are you going to do when the baby comes?” It was a logical question, and he felt the way Scorpius stiffened under his touch. James looked at him. “Or haven’t you thought it through that far? You can’t just walk into a Muggle hospital and expect them not to be shocked by a bloke having a baby.”

“What does it matter to you?” Scorpius wrenched himself away, pushing to his feet to stand awkwardly. “You made it obvious that you don’t want me around anymore.”

“You were shagging my brother!” James caught himself as his voice raised, yelling that last. He crossed his arms and huffed a slow breath in and out. “Scorpius, what you did—” He paused. “No. I don’t want to talk about it. Not that part anyway. What are you doing here? I thought you’d go home to your parents.”

One eyebrow rose. “I do believe you’ve met my parents. Do you truly think they’d be interested in the scandal of an unwed pregnant son? They never approved of my preference for men, nor my friendship with Albus, and they certainly didn’t approve when I moved in and started shagging you. They made it quite clear that I was no longer a proper part of the Malfoy family.”

James's gaze fell to Scorpius’ thick center. “They’ll change their minds when they meet their grandchild.”

Scorpius shrugged one shoulder. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. At least they will know it will continue the Malfoy name.”

“Why wouldn’t it be Malfoy-Potter?” The words slipped out before James thought about them, but he saw no reason to take them back. “It has to be mine or Al’s. You’re too far gone for it to be any more recent.” When Scorpius opened him mouth, James lifted one hand. “I don’t want to know whose it is. I’m sure you’re able to figure it out somehow, since I was gone for a week for work and all, but I don’t actually want to know. I just—”

“What, James?” Scorpius rolled his eyes heavenward. “You just what? Because it is patently obvious that any arguments I might have here are not to be considered.”

“You’re right, they’re not. You haven’t proven yourself to be exactly great at decision making,” James pointed out. “Get your things and go put that apron somewhere. You’re coming home with me.”

“No.” Scorpius slid his feet back into shoes without socks, and twisted the lid onto the pot of salve. “My break’s over, James, and I’d prefer it if you left now. You’ve no reason to come back, not any more than Albus does, and perhaps even less.” The look he gave James was pure Malfoy, full of disdain and disregard. “So go. And good riddance.”

James took a step towards him as Scorpius turned to the door. “That’s my child,” he protested.

Scorpius paused, and one shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Is it? You’ve said it yourself: I cheated with Albus. Thus, it could be his. And I know you, Potter. You’d never be able to look at this child without wondering if it belongs to Albus. You will never love it. So go. This child is mine, and this is my life. Leave me to it.”

James's feet felt rooted to the ground, and he watched as Scorpius disappeared inside once more. He heard a shout of “ _Malfoy!!”_ and knew the break was over. He wasn’t going to get any further tonight.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t come back.

#

The next time he arrived at the diner, Scorpius wasn’t there, nor was he on shift the time after that. The little blond waitress took pity on James the third time he showed up and told him, “He’s switched to the midnight shift. Best time to catch him is if you come in around breakfast, just before he finishes up.”

James smiled his thanks, and tipped her three times the cost of his cup of coffee. “Why are you doing this? I thought you were warning me off.”

She laughed. “I was just warning you. Since you don’t seem to be scared off by him, maybe you’re just what he needs. Seems like he could use a bit of help in this world.” She pulled a pastry out of a glass covered plate and wrapped it in a napkin, handing it to him. “Something to tide you over. Come in about six or so tomorrow morning; he’ll be finishing up then.”

It took James three more days before he could clear a morning to spend at the diner. His schedule at work was dependent on the cases, and in the end he took a day’s vacation claiming personal issues while his boss nodded knowingly. James doubted his boss had any actual idea of the truth, but if he wasn’t going to push for details, James certainly wasn’t going to volunteer.

He spotted Scorpius behind the counter, moving from patron to patron who sat on the stools, refilling coffee and taking orders, then clearing dishes where patrons had left. James slipped into an empty spot at the counter and muttered, “Coffee,” when Scorpius approached.

Scorpius’ hand shook as he poured. “What are you doing here?” he hissed.

James smiled in an attempt to be charming and doubting it worked. “You’re avoiding me, and our conversation wasn’t done yet.”

“Yes, it was.” Scorpius slammed a pot of creamer and a tin of sugar on the table, sliding them towards James, then turned away.

“I want one of those apple pastries,” James called after him.

Scorpius ignored him as long as he could, but eventually he returned with the pastry. “Get out, Potter,” he muttered under his breath.

“Not leaving.” James took a bite of the pastry, enjoying the sweet spice of it. “I’m staying until you’re off shift, then we’re going to finish the conversation we were having the other day.”

“You’re being an arse.”

“Actually, I’m trying to do the right thing.” James took another bite of the pastry, gesturing with the bit of it in his hand. “Albus… he’s a Ravenclaw, and I’m betting he gave up when you told him to go because he can’t see any logical way to change your mind. Me, I’m a Gryffindor, and I’m too stupid and stubborn to even consider giving up when I’m pretty sure that if I wait long enough, I’ll wear you down.”

Scorpius leaned on the counter, glaring at James. “Why do you care?”

“Do you really want me to say?” James's gaze dropped to Scorpius’ belly, then back again, as if daring him to start talking about the pregnancy then and there, among all the Muggles.

“Fine. I’m off in thirty.” Scorpius turned away, but James was pleased anyway. He was wearing him down.

#

“You just don’t like it when someone tells you no.” Scorpius yanked open a door at the back of the building, revealing a narrow stairway beyond. “This has nothing to do with you or me, just the fact that you bloody well hate it when you can’t have something you want. And you’ll bludgeon your bloody way through anything in order to get it.” He gestured at the stairwell after touching something on the wall that lit the passage with a thin, yellowish light. “Go on up. Third floor’s my flat.”

“You live over the diner?” James went where Scorpius gestured. “And you’re right, I don’t like it when anyone tells me no, but this isn’t about that. This is about the baby.” And Scorpius, perhaps, if he admitted it to himself, which he refused to do.

“It’s convenient.” At the top of the stairs, Scorpius pulled the door open and followed James in. Once the door was closed, he shrugged out of his jumper, tossing it to the side.

James could clearly see the thickness of his belly now, the way it rounded over the waistband of jeans that had been tucked beneath it. He wanted to touch it, to see if he could feel the child move beneath the skin. But he couldn’t do that, couldn’t touch Scorpius again. Not ever.

The other man stiffened, back perfectly straight, as if he could feel the weight of James's stare. “You don’t get to say anything about the baby,” he said calmly, arms crossed. “The baby’s mine, Potter. Not yours. Not Albus’. Mine.”

“And you can’t have it here in the Muggle world.” James gestured at the flat with its dingy lighting and well-worn furniture. “If you’re here when labor comes, you’ll die, Scorpius. You and your baby. You can’t Apparate with it, and you haven’t got a Floo. What are you going to do: owl someone from St. Mungo’s to come get you?” He threw both arms wide with an angry snort, then crossed his arms. “You’re coming home with me today, and we’ll go see a Healer tomorrow morning, first thing.”

“Don’t you have work?” Scorpius’ tone was mild. “I do. I plan to sleep until somewhere around dinner time, get up and get ready so I can be on shift at eleven. I’m not going to lose my job because you’re having a momentary idea of being possessive over this baby. You’ll come around soon enough and toss me out again for infidelity.”

“I’m trying to save your life,” James said flatly. “Both of you.” His jaw set, because he wasn’t leaving here without Scorpius. “Do you want me to make a binding promise? I won’t kick you out, and I’ll help you get a place properly in the magical world after the baby’s born. You can’t work in a diner and be a single father. I don’t think they’d be happy if you were carrying a baby around all day while waiting tables.”

“Then I’ll find something else.” Scorpius walked away, past a tattered sofa and stopping at the tiny kitchen counter. Dishes were piled in the sink; he twisted the hot water on and started washing them the Muggle way. “I’m fine, James.”

“You’re a stubborn idiot,” James snapped back. “Just tell me this, is being on your own so important to you that you’ll die for it?”

Scorpius stopped, hands clenched around the pot he held, the sponge squished and leaking soap. “Being on my own is important because when I depended on you, I gave up everything of myself, and look where it got me.” He threw a look at James over his shoulder. “Here. If I stay here, at least it’s under my control, not yours.”

“I’m not trying to control you.” James pushed both hands into his hair, shoving his fringe back as he growled softly in frustration. “I’m trying to help. Fine. Pay rent. You’ll take the room Albus had. I’m not trying to take you back as a lover, Scorpius. But you need to come back into the right world to get care for you and the baby. Or no one will be controlling your life, because you won’t have one. Stop being such a blithering idiot.”

Silence then, stretching out between them until James felt the weight of it.

“The cafe down the street from the flat is hiring,” James said quietly, as if perhaps that might be the thing that pushed Scorpius into a sensible reaction.

“Fine.” James couldn’t see Scorpius’ expression as he acquiesced, tone still sharp. His back to James, he continued, “I need to get my things. But don’t even think about touching me. And see if you can get that appointment for this afternoon, because I’m not missing my shift tomorrow morning.”

#

James managed to get the appointment for that afternoon, but Scorpius refused to allow him to come in to see the Healer with him. Two thin hands pressed against James's chest, keeping him out of the room. “You’re not the father, and you don’t get to play Daddy,” Scorpius said tightly.

“Would you rather have Albus here?” James snapped before he thought better of it.

“I don’t want to be here at all, remember?” Scorpius’ pointed chin lifted. He pushed against James until he relented and stepped back. Scorpius smiled thinly. “I’m here under protest. For the good of the child, not to please you in any way.”

“Fine.” James crossed his arms. “The baby doesn’t deserve to suffer just because his parents—”

“You are not his father.” Scorpius interrupted, each word sharp and cutting.

The Healer swept in, closing the door to leave James on the outside where he could hear nothing, thanks to the privacy spells the hospital had in place. The waiting room was bright, filled with expectant mothers, husbands, and small children, but James couldn’t sit still. He made his way down the hall to get a cup of tea then walked as he sipped at it.

Tea was supposed to heal all ills; his grandmother swore by it. But James didn’t think tea was anywhere near strong enough for this. Whiskey, perhaps. Several bottles and a long night of draining them dry.

His gaze drifted to the door of the waiting room. This was madness, but it was the right thing to do. What was he thinking, bringing Scorpius back under his roof? And putting him in that room… as soon as Scorpius had set his bag on the bed, James had recalled again the image he’d seen.

Even after six months it still hurt, bright and sharp and stabbing into his heart.

“James?”

He glanced up at the sound of the voice, hand crumpling his empty cup. “Hey, Rose.” His wanderings had taken him through the halls and near the emergency entrance, where Rose worked, her green robes rumpled from a long shift as an apprentice. “It’s been a while.”

She stepped in close, arms around him for a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “Well, you missed Mum’s party in August, and Albus said you didn’t come home for—” She stopped speaking as he tensed. “Al said you were arsed off at him.”

“He shagged Scorpius,” James said flatly. “I know Al’s always had a thing about wanting everything I had, but that one was taking in a bit too far.”

Rose drew back, brown eyes soft as she looked at him. Hands slid up to frame his face. “James…”

“You and Al are practically like twins,” James said, stepped back. “You don’t need to defend him. I’m not interested in hearing about it.”

“You’re brothers,” she said quietly. “You have to talk to him. And you have to forgive him sometime.”

James snorted derisively. “No, I don’t. Did you know he got Scorpius pregnant?”

“I heard Scorpius is pregnant, yes.” Rose’s head tilted. “I also heard he’s eating terribly and working too hard. And that he got arsed off when Al went to see him last week.”

James shrugged. “He’s arsed off at all things Potter, except maybe Lils since she didn’t have anything to do with it all. But he’s here, and getting proper care from a Healer, so he’ll be fine.”

Rose’s brow furrowed. “How’d you convince him to do that?”

“Didn’t take no for an answer.” James twisted, glancing back down the way he’d come. He spotted a bin and lobbed his empty cup at it, watching as it went in. “I need to get back and take him home.”

“He’s moved back in?” Her voice was studiedly neutral.

“For now.” James shrugged again. “Tell Al if you want. But he’s not welcome to come over. I don’t want them shagging in my flat ever again.”

“It was their flat, too,” Rose pointed out.

“No Ravenclaw logic in the world is going to help with this,” he responded. “Love isn’t logical, and neither is betrayal. It doesn’t matter that it was their place as much as mine; it’s what they did that makes it wrong.”

She pressed her lips together, biting them as if to keep words in. James decided to ignore that and simply gave her another quick hug and a peck on the cheek, instructing her to pass along his good wishes to her family.

Then he went back to collect Scorpius and take him home.

#

Life settled into a routine.

James woke up just as Scorpius came home from his shift, and ate the breakfast Scorpius brought from the diner. In the evening, when James came home from work at the DMLE, Scorpius was just waking up and James brought in takeaway for their dinner. They rarely spoke except in the mildest of terms.

James tried to ask about the baby; Scorpius refused to answer. He merely assured James that yes, the Healer was well aware of his current work situation, and yes, he could continue without endangering the child, at least for now.

Scorpius had been living there a week when he came in one morning and pushed a small pile of Galleons across the table to James during breakfast. “Rent,” he said. “And I’ll be going back to day shift tomorrow.”

James blinked and nudged the money aside, not worried about that aspect of things. “So we’ll be in the flat at the same time,” he replied, focusing on what he saw as important.

Scorpius shrugged one thin shoulder, although it was already not nearly as thin as it had been. “It’s easier for me, and I’ll need to get settled into a daytime schedule once the baby comes anyway.”

“When’s it due?” James had asked the same question several different ways, but each time Scorpius changed the subject.

“I’m going out with Rose this weekend.” Scorpius mopped up a bit of egg with a bite of toast. “She said her mum might have some baby clothes left, and I’m welcome to come over and look through things.”

“You aren’t too proud for hand-me-downs?” James said drily. “But you won’t accept my help.” He’d bought a crib, only to find that Scorpius had sent it back and left the money for James on his pillow.

“I’m doing this on my own,” Scorpius said firmly. “I’ll start looking for a place soon and I’ll be out of your hair. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“And what if I want to help?”

Scorpius fixed him with a silvered glare. “You’re only saying that because you think it’s your son. What if it’s Albus’ son?” James couldn’t find words, and Scorpius smiled wryly at that response. “That’s what I thought,” Scorpius said. “You don’t need to save your son, James, because he’s not yours.”

“Are you so sure of that?” James rose from the table and scraped the breakfast he no longer wanted into the bin before tossing the dishes in the sink.

“I am,” Scorpius said mildly, eating as if nothing were wrong in the world. “He can’t be yours. He’s just mine.”

#

James went out when Scorpius did that night, meeting mates from work for a pint or four at the pub round the corner, then stumbling home on feet made awkward by too much alcohol. Or not enough alcohol, James wondered, since there was a dull ache in his chest that he couldn’t seem to get rid of.

He stumbled up the stairs to his flat, fumbling his wand from his pocket to unlock the door. He held it out and called out the spell into the darkness, grumbling when there was no answering click. He tried again, and again, then plodded up the stairs further.

“You’re far too pissed to be doing that.”

“Al?” James blinked, focusing on the muzzy image of his brother sitting on the floor by the door to his flat.

The figure slowly unfolded, drawing himself up to a height which had somehow grown taller than James by an inch since he last saw him. James took a step back, frowning.

Albus sighed. “I don’t want to talk to you when you’re pissed.”

“Then don’t.” It seemed a reasonable solution to James. “I don’t want to talk to you at all, so that works out fine for me.”

“It doesn’t matter what we want.” Albus took out his own wand and tapped the door, barking a spell James didn’t know but it worked, and the door slid open. “We need to talk anyway, and now’s as good a time as any, since Scorpius isn’t here.”

James snorted dryly. “He’s not your baby either,” he informed Albus sharply. “He’s not my baby. He just belongs to Scorpius.”

“Because he made the baby all by himself? Doubtful,” Albus said. “I know a good bit about magic, and about biology, and that’s not how babies come to be, even the magical sort.”

“I know,” James assured him. “But you won’t convince Scorpius of that. He’s bloody well possessive.”

“Can you blame him, after you were such an arse to him?” Albus grabbed James's shoulders and nudged him towards the sofa. “Go on, sit before you fall over.”

“I still don’t want to talk to you.”

“Then listen.” Albus folded his frame into the chair opposite the sofa then leaned forward to look at James intently. He met his brother’s gaze as evenly as he could imagine, the alcohol making the room wobble more than he’d like.

“There’s nothing you can say—”

“I’ve gone and asked Peony Parkinson-Zabini to marry me.”

James blinked, not understanding. “Does she know about the baby?”

Albus rolled his eyes. “Yes, she knows Scorpius is pregnant and that his father’s an arse who’s tossed him out on the street. When we get a house, we might rent him a room, if he’ll listen long enough for me to make the offer. We’ve been looking at places that are designed with rooms to let, over the garage.”

“Garage?” James echoed, his muzzy mind not placing the word.

“Muggle place to keep an automobile,” Albus qualified. “We’ll be keeping brooms in there, and Peony wants to use it as a spot to make potions. It’s a Muggle neighborhood we’re looking at, but there are plenty of magical folk mixed in. We really liked this one house, and we’re hoping we get it.”

“When?”

“When are we getting the house?” Albus’ brow furrowed. “I won’t know that for a while, James.”

“Married,” he clarified. “When are you getting married? And have you told Scorpius yet?”

Albus grinned broadly. “Boxing Day. I’m going to tell Mum this weekend. And yes, of course I told Scorpius.”

James nodded as if that explained everything. “Makes sense now why he’s not talking to you either. Probably feels like you jilted him, after he left me for you.”

“James, it wasn’t—” Albus stopped with a sigh. “Look, you need to talk to Scorpius about that night. And this time you need to listen when he tries to explain it.”

James shuddered, the image of Albus’ hand on Scorpius’ abdomen still all too clear in his mind, the two heads bent close together, the kiss hidden by the angle. “I don’t need the details, Al,” he muttered.

“Yeah, you do.” Albus stood and came over to put one hand on James's shoulder. “And I should probably wait until then, or at least until you’re sober, to ask this, but will you be my best man at my wedding?” When James hesitated, Albus rushed to add, “You’ve always been the best brother, and I can’t imagine anyone else standing up for me there. It’s important.”

Best man. Standing up for him. How could Albus ask that? Albus might be bonding with Peony, not Scorpius, but every bit of pain that James had felt for more than six months now was at least partly Albus’ fault, and James couldn’t just forgive that so easily. He shook his head.

Albus sighed. “I’ll ask again later then. After you’ve gotten things sorted.”

“There’s nothing to sort.” James pushed to his feet as well, turning to gesture at the door. “Time for you to go, Al.” Because the only thing worse than this conversation would be for Albus to still be here when Scorpius got home, which wouldn’t be all that much longer, James thought. He pulled open the door and leaned on it to stay upright, slamming it roughly once his brother was finally gone.

#

James woke sure that something had woken him. It was too early, the dawn sky pale and yellow, and his mouth tasted like cardboard and ash. When he pushed himself to sit on the edge of his bed, the room spun and his stomach tilted, and he forced his body to behave. He listened.

A cry, low and long, aching with pain.

Yes. That. That’s what had awakened him.

He stumbled to the door, gripping it hard to stay upright as he opened it and listened again. To his left, and longer than before. Al’s old room. Scorpius’ room.

Scorpius.

He hesitated at the door. Was it pain that he heard or something else? Should he open it? What would he find?

The sound came again, a low groan, twisted and pained; James pushed open the door.

Scorpius lay curled on the bed, arms protective around the swell of a belly that looked larger than James had imagined. Much larger. As he stood there, Scorpius cried out, fingers tight, gripping his own arms, body shaking and covered in sweat.

“Scorp!” James was next to him, sitting on the edge of the bed, gathering him into his arms. He held him as Scorpius’ body tensed again, then collapsed against him, wrung out. “What’s going on?”

“Baby’s coming.” The voice was a soft shadow, low and hoarse.

It was too early. This was impossible. “We have to get you to St. Mungo’s,” James stood, reaching to lift Scorpius, cradling him in his arms. “Do you—” He had vague memories of talking to his brother the night before, something about Peony and Scorpius and James couldn’t remember the details in the fog of his hangover. “Should I get Al?”

Scorpius shook his head then let it fall against James's shoulder. “Don’t need Al. Don’t need anyone.”

“If you don’t have anyone, you’re going to bleed to death in that bed.” James didn’t listen, and he wouldn’t listen about Albus, but that could wait until later. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you or your baby.” He tossed the powder into the Floo awkwardly, hands full of a slender pregnant man, and called out for St. Mungo’s.

Scorpius was chuckling when they emerged. “You said my baby,” he said softly.

James's throat tightened at just how tired he already sounded. “That’s what you want,” he whispered. “So that’s what you’ll get. Bloody hell, you need to come through this all right. Let’s get you settled into a room. I don’t—”

_I don’t want to lose you._

James bit back the words before they escaped, not ready to admit out loud that no matter what Scorpius had done, he still loved him. Still needed him, and that losing him might well kill him. Instead he followed a Mediwitch to a room and settled Scorpius gently on the bed there. Before they rushed him out, he had just enough time to bend over and kiss Scorpius’ forehead.

“You’re right,” he whispered. “It doesn’t matter whose baby this is, whether it’s mine or Al’s because in the end, it’s yours. It’s still a part of you, and it’s going to be absolutely brilliant no matter what. I can’t wait to meet him, Scorpius. And you’d bloody well better be strong enough to survive this, because if you die, I’m going to kill you.”

He felt fingers touch his, tangling briefly. “I’m not going to die,” Scorpius said hoarsely, before doubling up with another contraction.

“Promise,” James said, squeezing those fingers.

Scorpius panted as the pain eased, and he met James's gaze. “Promise.”

Then the Mediwitch made him leave, and James watched as the door closed. He couldn’t be there for Scorpius, couldn’t do anything other than pace. James had never been very good at being patient and waiting; the next few hours were going to be brutal.

#

Few hours. _Few hours?_ James had the feeling he should have known better, but all his memories of folks having children were foggy from when he was just a wee child. After the first few hours had passed, he grabbed a mediwitch walking by, demanding to know whether Scorpius was alive or dead. She had laughed at his panic, assuring him that Scorpius was progressing normally, and James might want to step down to the cafe to get some breakfast and perhaps, she had added gently, step out for a hangover potion.

He had to admit, food and the potion helped, although he still felt off-kilter from his strange wakeup that morning. And no matter how he worried, no matter how he paced, he couldn’t stop thinking about Scorpius being in there all alone, trying to have this baby alone.

He paced for another hour, then stopped in front of the door to Scorpius’ room and rapped sharply.

“Enter,” a voice called back, sounding tired.

James pushed the door open slowly, taking in the image in the bed. Scorpius’ pale hair was stringy around his face, his eyes dark and skin pale. He smiled slightly when he saw James.

“Apparently having a baby is exhausting and unattractive,” he said dryly. “Who knew? My father would be horrified to see me.”

James took a careful step inside and closed the door. “Your father will be thrilled when he finds out you’ve had an heir,” he said quietly. “I don’t think he’ll even care that it’s half Potter.” He held up his hands. “By blood, I mean. He’s all Malfoy. Yours. I know. You’ve made that point quite clear.”

Scorpius’ gaze dropped, eyes closing before he let his head fall back against the pillow with a groan. Hands fisted tightly in the sheets, squeezing hard as he bit down to keep from crying out. James took his hand in both of his, cradling it and bringing it to his lips without thinking, kissing the knuckles as Scorpius fought through the contraction. Scorpius was breathing hard when it ended.

“Why are you here?” Scorpius asked, eyes still closed.

“Where else would I be?”

“Are you planning to try to take my child?”

James kissed his knuckles again. “No. I just thought you’d want company, rather than sitting in this little room all by yourself, in pain and turning into a cranky bastard. Especially if it takes more than a few hours, which it already has.”

Scorpius laughed sharply. “I’ll be lucky if this baby’s born today, James. They can take up to two days the first time around. Particularly for men, who aren’t built for childbearing in the first place, and the magic has to refine the process as it happens.” Another contraction caught him, and he gripped James's hand tightly, breathing harshly when it was done. “You don’t have to stay.”

“Yes, I do.” James didn’t try to explain why, because he wasn’t sure he could put it into words. “Besides, Albus said that you have a story I should hear. And I figure, you’re not going anywhere, I’m not going anywhere, maybe you could tell it to me now.”

Scorpius opened one eye, his expression suspicious. “What story is that?”

James took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “The one about what happened that night. What _really_ happened. Al tells me he’s marrying Peony Parkinson-Zabini.”

“That’s a mouthful of a name, isn’t it?” Scorpius’ fingers turned in James's hand, holding on. “And I knew that already. He’s been dotty for her for over a year, you know.”

“A year? I had no idea.”

“You never asked, and he isn’t the sort to share, not until he thinks he has something worth sharing.” Scorpius smiled tightly through another contraction. “Such as news of a wedding.”

James huffed a sigh, mulling over that piece of information. “Then why did you and he—?”

Scorpius stiffened. “Why did he and I what, James?” One eyebrow arched, the expression ruined by another contraction that lasted longer than the previous ones, not relenting until Scorpius had tears in his eyes and was gasping for breath. He sat up, head on his knees, and James stroked his hair lightly.

“You two shagged,” he said quietly. “I saw you, remember? You were halfway to undressed, and he was kissing you. Had his hand on your chest. If I hadn’t come in just then, you would’ve—” He couldn’t say it again, just bowed his head, feel separate despite the touch of his hand to Scorpius thin back. “Merlin, Scorpius, you’re thin. We need to feed you when you’re out of here again.”

“We?” That one eyebrow again. This time the pain stayed away long enough for James to get the full effect of the expression.

“You’re coming home with me. You and the baby.”

“Because you think he’s yours?”

“No.” James wrestled with the words, trying to find a way to say this. “I don’t want to take him from you. But I love you. And I still love you and no matter what’s happened, and no matter whose baby he is, I want to be with you and him. If he’s Al’s, it doesn’t matter; I’ll still be his dad if you’ll let me.”

“You don’t care if he’s yours?” Scorpius waited until James nodded, then added, through gritted teeth, “And you don’t care if I let Albus fuck me?”

James winced at the sharp words. “I care, yes. But I can let it go, because I think we’re good together. And whatever I was doing wrong—if I was traveling too much, or being too possessive, or too controlling—I’ll change it. Just tell me what you need from me to do this right.”

Scorpius screamed. His head fell forward, body curled protectively around his belly, skin taut with pain. He panted, then screamed again, until James put his arms around him and gathered him close, whispering nonsense words and affection, kissing his forehead, smoothing a hand over his skin.

“He’s yours,” Scorpius finally gasped. “ _Oh fucking Merlin_ this hurts and I never want to do this again but oh fuck he’s yours, James. All yours. Never shagged Al. Never wanted to.” The words blurted out in a rush, tumbling over each other.

His. _Theirs_. James grinned broadly, the expression falling away when Scorpius screamed again. “What do you need me to do?” he asked worriedly.

“Get the Healer.” Scorpius looked at James, grey eyes wide. “I think our baby’s coming right now.”

#

“What do you want to name him?” James stretched out on the bed next to Scorpius, lying on his side, head propped up on one hand. His other hand drifted between the wee infant on Scorpius’ chest and Scorpius himself. “I can’t believe he’s sleeping.”

“I’m glad.” Scorpius’ voice was soft, almost far away. “I think I want to do the same soon. He’ll have to go back to the nursery then.”

“I’ll make sure he gets there.” Eventually.

Scorpius was so silent that James wondered if he had, indeed, fallen asleep. The answer, when it finally came, was exhaled on a soft breath. “Phoenix.”

“As a name?” James wanted to make sure he’d heard right.

Scorpius nodded. “It’s odd, and I can’t for the life of me even remember if it’s a constellation, and I’m sure my father will have my head if it’s not. It certainly doesn’t end in ‘ _us’_. But he is us, and he’s a new part of our life, and we’re new, and—” his voice trailed off.

James wasn’t sure he followed that logic, but he smiled anyway. “Phoenix it is. And the middle name?”

“James.” Scorpius smiled sleepily. “Phoenix James Potter-Malfoy.”

When the door burst open moments later, James sat up quickly, pressing a finger to his lips. He gathered his son (eight and a half pounds, ten fingers, ten toes, and a little pudge in his belly where he’d been filled with a good first meal) up so Scorpius could sleep without interruption.

Albus stopped just inside the door, a girl just behind him. James never really knew her well in school, but he could guess who she was. He nodded to both of them, and motioned back out of the room.

“Rose told us Scorpius was in delivery,” Albus explained. “So we thought we’d come see him, and the baby.” His gaze rested on James, assessing him and smiling after a moment.

“He’s adorable.” Peony took the baby immediately, cooing to him even though he slept.

“Your girlfriend’s baby-mad,” James said quietly, watching them, unwilling to let Phoenix out of his sight.

“We’ve agreed to wait a little while,” Albus countered. “Neither of us is in a place where we’re ready for kids. It would kill her career.”

They were silent a long moment before Albus reached into his pocket and withdrew a packet that he handed to James. “Look, I don’t know if you patched everything up with Scorpius or not, and if you haven’t, I’m overstepping my bounds to give you this. But it was made for you.”

James took the packet and opened it, frowning when the first picture he saw was Scorpius stretched out on Albus’ bed, shirt off, trackies pushed down just below his belly. “This was the night I found you,” he said quietly.

Albus nodded. “Yes. I’d asked Scorpius to take some photos of me.” He flushed brightly. “I trusted him, and they were um… intimate ones. So I couldn’t ask just anyone. They were for Peony. For a surprise.” The flush heated up his skin straight down to his collar. “So anyway, Scorpius asked if I’d take photos of him as well, for you. One each month at first, starting that night. Then every two weeks more recently, after he passed six months. So that’s the first one, the night he told me he was three months pregnant with your baby.” His gaze drifted towards James, as if waiting to see how he took that bit of news.

James simply sifted through the photographs, watching as Scorpius’ belly gently rounded, then grew to a size he hadn’t even been aware of. If he’d seen him naked, James might have realized how much further along Scorpius was than he had thought. A full nine months, not an early baby at six months, which explained how perfect Phoenix was. His fingers lightly drifted over the images, taking in the sorrow in Scorpius’ expression in the middle stages, and the cautious, wary hope that had come into the most recent photograph.

“We talked,” he finally said, but he didn’t think Albus needed to hear the details. “He’s coming home after. Him and Phoenix both. To be a family.”

“Congratulations!” Albus gave him a hard hug, pounding on his back. “Does that mean you’ll be my best man at the wedding then?”

James grinned slowly. “Yeah. I guess I will.” He looked at Peony and Phoenix, and started to laugh. “Holidays are going to be bloody well chaotic at home this year.”

“We’ll have plenty to celebrate.” Albus wrapped his arms around Peony as she reluctantly gave Phoenix back. “Tell Scorpius we came by, and we’ll come to the flat to see him once you’re all home, all right? You ought to go back in there.” He nodded at the door. “Be a family.”

James gave him a rueful smile, attention taken by the infant who squirmed in his arms, seeking a more comfortable position. He took him back into the room as Albus and Peony left, and tucked the baby into his small crib. He could take him down to the nursery, he supposed, but right now he wanted to keep him close by. He wanted both Scorpius and Phoenix near enough to touch, to hear when they cried, and know when they smiled and laughed. He didn’t want to risk losing either one of them, ever again.

He settled into the chair next to the bed, letting his fingers tangle with Scorpius, who squeezed back lightly in his sleep. James smiled as his own eyes closed, and he relaxed. They could rest now. Tomorrow, James would take his family home.


End file.
